


open wide

by frankoceanic



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Choking, M/M, Smut, its mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankoceanic/pseuds/frankoceanic
Summary: after accepting a teaching job at a boarding school, jongin forms a profound relationship with the school’s enigmatic janitor





	open wide

**Author's Note:**

> don’t know shit about boarding schools so don’t quote me on any of this
> 
>  
> 
> title from open wide by spencer.

Jongin’s not sure when it first happens, but it had to have been in the middle of winter. He remembers shaking so badly that Minseok had smiled, but the kind of smile that was mean, menacing, taunting almost. It must have been early in December, or was it in late December? He can’t remember, everything blurs together. 

 

He’d presumed it happened by accident, just as everything else in his life did. Like getting accepted into Fresno State, submitting his application during a fight with a friend of his, his arm going to slam onto the keyboard keys and then there it was, blinking on his screen. 

 

At first, Jongin was hesitant at accepting the teaching job, especially at a boarding school of all places. The school was on the Alameda Island, and Jongin had lived most of his life in Oakland, anyway. He figured he could drive back and forth, but that proved to be difficult and officially moved into one of the provided off campus apartments only a mile away from the school. Jongin liked it, but it was too quiet, too rural for his taste. 

 

His father, before he’d left, had said, “It’ll be good for you. Boarding school’s always have the best kids.” Boarding school or not, the students were the same as any others, loud and obnoxious and moody. Jongin was a good professor, he knew that much, but sometimes it was difficult to get a sentence out without wanting to yell. He was still fairly young, but the students were making him feel older. 

 

The rest of the professors in the school were all old, well enough into their fifties and had a lot to say about some students, having taught some of their parents. Jongin’s first semester at the boarding school went smoothly, aside from the constant bickering with some students and the fact his apartment was always cold and Sunday chapel services. 

 

Jongin met him – him being Minseok – right in the middle of October. He’d seen the man around a few times, but only after class hours. He was the janitor, a small man that always seemed to mind his business and just do his job. This particular day, Sehun, one of Jongin’s students, had spilled Gatorade all over the carpet and hadn’t even bothered to clean it after. Jongin didn’t want to make a big deal of it, so he waited until after hours to ask the janitor. Jongin waited around for a good hour or so until he heard footsteps and peaked into the hallway. “Excuse me?” 

 

The janitor turned and blinked, “Can I help you?”

 

Jongin swallowed, exiting his classroom fully and pointing dumbly, “One of the students spilled something on the carpet.”

 

“Should have had him clean it.” He said, turning back to what he was doing before. Jongin stood, a little surprised. “I’ll clean it. You can leave now.”

 

Hurriedly, Jongin gathered his things and made his way down the hall and through the east wing to start his walk toward his apartment. Most professors lived in their own homes off of campus, but Jongin couldn’t afford a place or gas money to keep going back and forth. 

 

During Sunday chapel service, Jongin wore his best suit (the same one he wore every Sunday) and made his way toward the chapel just as it was beginning. It was mandatory for all students to attend, but sometimes, some would sneak off and hide in their dorms until it was over and time to eat. Jongin always took a seat beside the only other professor that actually liked him. Professor Fuentes was a quiet but strict man. “The janitor? Has he been working here long?” Jongin decided to ask. 

 

Fuentes laughed, “Minseok? Minseok attended the school. He got a job here shortly after he graduated.”

 

Jongin hummed, glancing down the table to cast a glance in Minseok’s direction, but he never paid him any mind. Since he graduated? He didn’t go to college, then? Shortly after that, a week or so, Jongin made it a habit of staying after class hours, after all the students had retreated to their dorms and were causing chaos that Jongin, thankfully, didn’t have to watch over. He heard Minseok’s footsteps, the slap of a wet mop, bottles spraying, scrubbing. It became background noise as he graded papers, or went over lesson plans in his head and wrote them down. 

 

“Little late, don’t you think, professor?” Minseok appeared in the doorway, causing Jongin to jump in his seat. 

 

Jongin shrugged, “I have a lot of work to do.” 

 

“Couldn’t do it in your apartment?” Minseok asked, but he was using a certain tone that was borderline sultry. “If you don’t mind, I have to clean your classroom, professor.”

 

“Go ahead.” Jongin said, turning back to his work, making an attempt to seem unbothered, to seem like his throat wasn’t drying up. Minseok vacuumed, dusted the main light in the room and cleaned the desks. Jongin even watched him do it for some time when Minseok was too concentrated to notice the pair of eyes on him. Minseok moved on to the next classroom without a preamble of a goodnight.

•

He still can’t remember, can’t pinpoint the exact day or week it happened, but it had to have been in December. Could it have been January? Alameda is cold in January.

 

“Professor?” Jongin jumped, looking up to find Sehun looking at him with a confused expression. The rest of his students were standing behind Sehun in a line, looking at him as well. Jongin apologized, taking the assignments from each student as they walked out, mumbling amongst themselves in suspicion. Jongin ran his fingers over his throat and shivered. It was in December.

•

Winters in Alameda were especially cruel. The ocean breeze mixed with icy mountain weather coated the small island in an icy blanket. Jongin had gotten sick three times since August and now it was towards the end of November and he could feel an illness kicking into him again. The students were beginning to study for first semester finals. Jongin’s final for them wasn’t that hard. They had to pass it, that’s how easy it was. 

 

Jongin missed being back home, missed his parents and the occasional fling he had with the guy across the street from where he used to live. College, he didn’t miss, but the element of it was nostalgic to think of. 

 

The head of the school called for a special dinner with the students and their parents since the students would be going away for their Christmas break. Jongin was debating whether or not to go back home or to stay in Alameda for the month of paused classes. His parents would for sure call and beckon him back into Oakland. 

 

Drinks, of course, were served for the adults during the dinner and Jongin had happened to have one too many and had to be walked to his apartment by Minseok, who strangely volunteered. “Plans for the break?” Minseok asked. 

 

Jongin shrugged, “Might go back home. Might not. Don’t know yet.”

 

Minseok hummed, but he looked so threatening. Jongin opened the door to his apartment and was about to thank him when Minseok said, “I live in a room above the chapel. I don’t have family anymore. If you decide to stay for the free month, come to me.” 

 

It wasn’t even a suggestion. It wasn’t “come by and see me”. It was come to me, like he could have Jongin anywhere he wanted him with just saying that. Jongin couldn’t remember much of that night, but he sure as hell remembered that. 

 

After this, after all the students had packed their things and went back home for the vacation, Jongin rarely left his small apartment. He was forced a few times to leave it just to ask Minseok to fix his heater which wouldn’t function in the cold hours in the night. Jongin considered going home to see his parents, but they hadn’t even bothered to call or check up, so he stayed. 

 

Near the second day of December, Jongin walked out of his apartment and walked the mile to the school, slipping into the cafeteria and through the back to the large kitchen. He wanted something warm to eat, maybe he could make hot cocoa. Jongin spent some time looking through the rows of cabinets, looking for the easy, powdered hot cocoa that you just had to pour into hot milk to make. 

 

“Don’t you have a kitchen in your apartment, professor?” Came a voice, and Jongin had expected it, if he was being honest. He’d heard footsteps earlier, but ignored them. “The hot cocoa is on the left shelf all the way down.”

 

Jongin mumbles a thank you and goes to grab it, suddenly aware that they’re the only two in the school aside from the groundskeeper that never really leaves. He boils his milk, adverts from looking at Minseok, but is pulled in by his mere presence. “Going home for the holidays?” 

 

“Not sure yet.” Jongin said to him, trying to seem casual. He felt uneasy around this man. “Are you?”

 

“No place to go. I live here.” 

 

He decided to leave it at that. Minseok didn’t leave even when Jongin began to drink his hot beverage and offered him some, which he thanked him for but refused. So, Minseok had been here since he was a teen? Had begun working here right after graduation? Didn’t he have a family to go back to?

 

Jongin goes to leave the kitchen, giving a preamble of a goodbye, but Minseok doesn’t move from the doorway, he just stands there, ruffled and tired. Jongin tries to think about anything else, but his mind immediately goes to the thought of falling right into this man, right into his bed. “Whatever you’re playing at,” Jongin says, trying to seem uninterested, “It’s not a good idea.” 

 

Minseok smiles, lopsided and oddly adorable, moving aside to let Jongin pass by. “I’m not playing at anything, professor.”

 

“If you know my name, why do you call me professor?” Jongin gave him a pointed look. 

 

A shrug, and then, “Goodnight.” 

 

Jongin decides, after long minutes of contemplation, that he would go to Minseok. It had been after he finished his hot cocoa, after he’d showered an extra time and stared at himself in the mirror as a nervous tick. He gets halfway to the school before he chickens out, turns back around and walks back to his apartment. A pep talk, and he’s on his way to the school, sneaking through the main hall and all the way through the east wing to reach that quiet chapel. There are candles lit. Jongin looks at the crucifix and shivers. Above the chapel, Minseok had said. Jongin sees the door that leads to the exit of the chapel and the one that no one ever touches. He knocks on that one, but there’s no answer. When he opens it, a staircase is leading up to a dim light hallway. 

 

The door shuts behind him as he takes the steps quietly, in fear that Minseok might’ve fallen asleep. There’s only one door in the hallway, so he knocks, shaking from the nerves and cold breeze. There’s movement in the room before Minseok answers the door. He looks like he’d just rolled out of bed. Jongin can’t find any words to say, and it seems like Minseok doesn’t really want him to say anything anyway. Minseok moves aside, the door widening to let him in. Come to me. 

 

It was only natural, months of just his hand, just his fingers, never anyone else touching him or kissing him. Here was Minseok, handsome in the way that made your eyes water, but sharp at the same time. There was attraction there, but Jongin had a lot of questions, mostly because he was being nosy and the whole ordeal of Minseok just working here after he graduated didn’t resonate comfortably with him. Why didn’t he leave? Did he have anywhere to go? Was Jongin the first professor he’d lured in like this? 

 

“I can see you’re thinking a lot.” Minseok says, but his voice sounds so far away. Jongin had sat down on the edge of Minseok’s bed, rumpled up sheets from his previous state of slumber. “What? Never had a fling before?”

 

Jongin makes a sound of confusion, but Minseok just smiles, the kind of smile you give a newborn baby when they laugh. “Okay, professor. Loosen up.” Minseok said, rubbing at one of his shoulders. “What are you up for tonight?”

 

It sounded cheap, but Jongin laughed, his cheeks feeling hot suddenly. He shrugged, unsure. “Undress.” Minseok said, with some authority. Jongin became pliant shortly after that. Minseok said move, he moved, Minseok said bend, he bent. He only protested to one thing, and that was when Minseok had tried to get him on his knees for him. They hadn’t even kissed yet, but Jongin was never really good at blowjobs. They made him shy and he figured he wasn’t good at giving them anyway. 

 

Minseok didn’t ask again, just nodded and pecked him on the cheek. The awkwardness quickly faded with timid kisses that Jongin peppered along Minseok’s neck and shoulders. He really wasn’t good at this. Jongin hid his face in Minseok’s neck, a little embarrassed. “Want me to guide you?” Minseok offered. “Don’t tell me this is your first time, professor?”

 

“No!” Jongin said, the urge to hit him on his chest overcame him, so he did, which only earned a laugh from Minseok. 

 

Naked and probably irritated from how long this was taking, Minseok motioned him over so Jongin could straddle his lap. Arousal is burning low in his stomach, and he’s been hard for what feels like hours now, but Minseok swats his hand away when he tries to touch himself. “Wanna fuck you first.” He says. Jongin shuts his eyes, listening to the sound of the cap shut on the bottle of lube. Minseok sets a hand on a cheek and spreads, Jongin flushing a color of red when he feels Minseok’s finger breach him. It’s weird, having someone else’s hands on him that aren’t his own. Minseok is patient, fucking him with one finger for what feels like an hour before Jongin mumbles against his skin. “What was that?”

 

Jongin flushes, his eyes shutting as he says, “Another, please.” Minseok doesn’t ask again, steadily opens him up with two fingers, then three until Jongin’s thighs are shaking and he keeps babbling about how he’ll come if he doesn’t stop. Minseok reaches under his pillow for a silver packet and hands it to Jongin. Jongin rolls it on, his fingers lingering slightly. Minseok eases him down. Jongin instantly clamps, moving away, unsure. 

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Jongin shakes his head, “Nothing. I just…” 

 

“I’m not going to break you, I promise.” Minseok says, sitting up suddenly to hold Jongin’s face in his hands. It’s all very tender, Jongin thinks. He would have given him anything then. “I’ll fuck you slow and sweet this time.”

 

Jongin nods, melting when Minseok gives him a final kiss before getting on his back and angling himself with Jongin.

 

He might have cried. He can’t really remember, but he shook so bad from the cold that Minseok got this wicked look in his eye like he enjoyed seeing Jongin shiver and shake. Minseok does fuck him sweetly and slow, only ever getting particularly rough towards the peak of his orgasm, slamming into him so hard that Jongin whined, clutching onto Minseok’s wrists. After Minseok comes, he wraps a hand around Jongin’s neglected cock and rests his other hand over Jongin’s throat. As an instinct, Jongin leans into the touch around his neck and moans when Minseok barely squeezes. 

 

Minseok sits up, sighs and leans his forehead against Jongin’s shoulder. Jongin lets out a sob when Minseok starts thrusting into him again, lazy and slow, pointless. “I’ll get something to clean you up, baby.” Jongin feels too bare and exposed when Minseok leaves the room, retreating to the bathroom to get a towel. Jongin stares at the streaks of come on his chest and winces. He feels so raw aside from how mellow the sex was. Too long without any sort of touching. 

 

Jongin closes his eyes as soon as he hears Minseok come back in. He cleans him, whispers to him how pretty he is and how he’s thought of this for fucking months. Jongin hides his face in the sheets, never good with praise. “Do you need me to walk you back?”

 

Jongin nods. He dresses quickly, feeling a slight tightness in his thighs as they walk back to his apartment. It’s silent, the events repeating in Jongin’s head on a loop. At the door, Jongin can’t find anything to say to him. He just stares, blinking away tears from the cold breeze hitting his eyes. “Have a goodnight, professor.” Minseok says, polite as fucking ever, like he hadn’t just fucked him, like he hadn’t choked him through his fucking orgasm and called him pretty when he came. 

 

“You, too, Minseok.” Jongin finds himself saying. Not a kiss or a hug, he retreats back inside, turning his heater on and falling on to his bed with a small groan.

•

After the first time, Jongin doesn't return to the school for another week. He can’t stop thinking about it though. Sometimes, at night, when he particularly feels more horny than usual, he bites his sheet as he slips a hand down his sleeping pants and gets off at the thought of doing it again. He just never goes back within that week, scared for what else might happen. 

 

Jongin’s busy fixing a lesson plan when he hears a tap at his door. He scrambled to fix his hair but still manages to look a complete fucking wreck. Minseok stands on his doorstep, shaking from the cold and holding something. “Mail for you, professor.” He says, handing it over. Jongin thanks him. He’d forgotten to go and get it these past few days. Minseok excuses himself and jogs back to the school. 

 

He gets a letter from his parents, saying they’d taken a trip to New York as a small vacation. They apologized for not telling him sooner and wished him well and, “Call us! We miss your voice!” Jongin reads the letter three times before he realizes he’s over analyzing the whole situation. Why hadn’t they told him sooner? Had they tried? 

 

That same night, he leaves his apartment and walks to the school, shaking when he reaches the chapel. He asks himself three times if this is what he wants, paces and then enters. He knocks on Minseok’s door, shy and softly in case he’s sleeping. “Jongin?” Comes a voice and then the door opens. “Hi.”

 

“I’m cold.” Jongin says. Minseok lets him in. He looks to be cleaning. “I… I don’t want to seem nosy. I just have a question.” 

 

Minseok laughs softly, continuing to scrub something on the floor. “For every question, you have to let me ask one, too.” 

 

“Okay. Fine.” Jongin says, kicking his shoes off and crossing his legs on Minseok’s bed, “Why have you been working here since you graduated?” 

 

“Cutting right to the juicy stuff, huh, professor?” Minseok looks up through black strands. Jongin flushes, embarrassed. “Didn’t have anyway for paying for any college I wanted to go to. The school needed a janitor since the last one had quit, so I asked for the job. Lived here since.”

 

“You didn’t want to take out loans from the bank? That could have helped you.” 

 

Minseok shrugs, “Didn’t want debt. My turn. Why’d you take this job out of all the ones you were being offered?”

 

Jongin can’t help but laugh a little, “My dad talked me into it. He said boarding school kids were well behaved. They act the same as any other student, in my opinion.” 

 

“They used to be back when I came here.” Minseok gets up, washing his hands and leaning against the wall as he says, “Teachers used to smack some of us over the head. The board shut that shit down quick, though. We used to have to clean our own plates, too. That was before we got a dishwasher to do it for us.” 

 

“I went to public school. It’s boring. Nothing happens.” Jongin looked down at his hands. 

 

“School’s haunted, you know.” Minseok smirks. “It’s got character.”

 

Jongin rolls his eyes, “I’m sure it is.”

 

“Seriously! You can hear most shit from up here. Footsteps, talking, bumps in the walls. I almost moved out the first month I had to live here.” Minseok says. “Think I’m lying, professor?”

 

“Probably.” Jongin shrugs. He’s sure he has so many other questions, but he’s forgotten all of them. Minseok hasn’t made a move yet, he’s just standing there, staring at him. “Are you plotting something?” 

 

“No. Just looking.” Minseok says. Minseok leaves for about thirty minutes to the kitchen to make something quick for them to eat. He comes back with two grilled cheeses and beers. 

 

“I don’t drink beer.” Jongin says around his grilled cheese. “Tastes like carbonated month old soda.”

 

Minseok shrugs, drinks four and then starts eating. The silence is nice, comfortable. Jongin thanks him and yawns. Jongin makes himself comfortable and lays down, ready to sleep when he hears a bump. He turns to reach for Minseok, who’s still sitting on the edge. “Told you.” 

 

Jongin eases back when Minseok takes the place next to him. Whenever he hears a creak or a stir, he clings on to Minseok’s arm and hides his face in his shoulder. “You get used to it. Just don’t think about it.” 

 

“That’s easy for you to say. You live here. There’s never bumps in my apartment.” Jongin says. 

 

Minseok pets his head lightly and sighs, “Sleep well.” 

 

As if. 

 

He wakes a few times, stirring from the discomfort of the small bed, but mostly do to the fact of the constant bumping, the small sounds of steps. Minseok grumbles at him, half asleep, “I’m not letting you sleep here anymore.” 

 

When the sun comes up, Jongin feels Minseok stir against him. He’s a clingy sleeper, throwing a leg over Jongin and then an arm, like a koala. “Rough night?” Minseok whispers, voice thick against Jongin’s collarbone. Jongin hums, sleepy. He felt like he’d only slept an hour. “Grounds keeper will be up soon. Let me walk you home.” 

 

Jongin whines, “I’m comfortable. A little longer. I’ll fall asleep if I get up.”

 

Minseok doesn’t protest, remains clinging to him until he stirs away, stretching his arms and rubbing at his eyes. “Excited for school to start again in three weeks?”

 

“Don’t remind me.” Jongin groans. “I’m spending my New Years here. My parents are in New York.” 

 

“Good. We can drink together.” Minseok sits up. “Come on, or you’ll never get up.” 

 

Jongin lets Minseok haul him out of bed, let's Minseok lead him down the stairs and through the chapel, lets Minseok walk him home and send him away with a chaste kiss that doesn’t mean anything. He lets it all happen. 

 

In another week, Jongin becomes lonely and goes back to Minseok, this time talking about much more elaborate things than the week before. Like Jongin’s college life, the friends he had, the small amount he has now. Minseok isn’t much of an interesting person. He’s simple and lives a life of the same routine. “What do you want to do tonight?” Minseok asks after they’ve fallen silent. School resumes soon, and that’s enough to make Jongin feel on edge. He missed his students, sometimes but the hectic spiral of grading and teaching was coming down hard on him. 

 

“I don’t know.” Jongin mumbles, then he adds, “Whatever you want.”

 

“Maybe whatever I want is something you’re not comfortable with. Give me a broad summary of what you want.” Minseok says, and it makes Jongin realize that this is more about him than it is about Minseok. 

 

“Can you just hug me? Maybe I’ll get courage then.” Jongin replies, irritated. Minseok laughs and hugs him. It’s so nice to touch another person, to feel them breathe against you. Minseok is so warm everywhere. Jongin feels himself began to sway, tired and sleepy. He can’t sleep here tonight. “I’m so sorry.” He blurts out. “I’m so tired. I can’t… not tonight.”

 

“Okay.” Minseok says back, rubbing his neck, “That’s fine. Do you want me to walk you home?” Jongin nods. 

 

On the wall back, Jongin clings to him, warm and solid and reassuring. Minseok kisses him on the mouth, softly and whispers, “Goodnight.” 

 

“Wait. Come inside.” Jongin whines, reaching for him again. Minseok quirks a brow. “Come inside, please. I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.” 

 

Minseok laughs softly, nodding and entering Jongin’s apartment after a minute. Jongin turns on the heater and rubs his hands together, “You never turn on any lights in here, do you?” 

 

Jongin shrugs, “Why? Think you can catch me changing with my window wide open?”

 

“I’m not that desperate.” Minseok huffs and walks towards Jongin’s small room. His study is across the hall from it, bigger than his actual room and filled with paperwork. “Lot of work to do, huh, professor?” Minseok calls from down the hall. Jongin doesn’t respond as he changes into something comfortable to sleep in. 

 

“I still have time to finish all that.” Jongin calls, already in bed. Minseok walks in and yawns. “Hurry. I’m cold.”

 

“Is this what we’re doing now, professor? Sleeping together?” Minseok looks amused but Jongin doesn’t reply. When Minseok slips into bed with him, Jongin clings to him, shaking from the cold and sleepy. 

 

“My apartment doesn’t have ghosts. It’s quiet here.” He says. 

 

“We’ll see.” Minseok whispered, starting to lull himself to sleep. He kissed Jongin one last time before falling asleep.

•

Second semester came and would not leave. Jongin missed December, missed sleeping in the same bed as Minseok, missed being woken up by kisses on his face or lips around his cock under the sheets. He didn’t see much of Minseok during school hours, his students taking most of his attention. During lunch hour, Jongin took the habit of eating with the rest of the professor’s but would sometimes slip away and look for Minseok. 

 

Minseok would almost always be cleaning in the bathrooms, never one to let boys make such a big mess. Jongin knocked before entering. Minseok was scrubbing at the sink. “Good afternoon, professor.” Minseok said, professionally. Jongin smiled at him. They talked with the short amount of time they had. Minseok had to hold himself back from grabbing Jongin by his collar and smacking a kiss on to him, but they did exchange a few lingering kisses before the bell tolled, summoning class again. “Miss you.” Minseok said softly, pushing him to leave. 

 

“Miss you more.” Jongin replied, a little flustered. 

 

When the day ended, Jongin hung back to correct essays before retreating back home, ready to shower and sleep. He changed into one of Minseok’s shirts that he’d left during the month of December and sat in his study for hours, losing track of time. He only ever got up to turn on the heater and to the sound of walking outside his window. 

 

He opened the door before the person could knock. Minseok grinned, shivering from the cold, “Gonna let me in?”

 

Jongin nodded, moving aside. Minseok shook and moved around to keep warm. “Is that my shirt?”

 

“You left it.” Jongin smiles, walking back to his study. Minseok doesn’t follow until a few moments later, still shivering. “It should be warmer in here soon.”

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Work.” Jongin says. 

 

Minseok tsked, leaving the room and rummaging through his kitchen. Jongin manages to get lost in his work before he hears Minseok come in, chewing on something and looking around. “This room's a mess.” 

 

“Clean then.” Jongin teases. Minseok shoots him a look, but grins. Jongin corrects paper after paper, groaning and complaining a few times because is it really that hard to follow instructions? “Here, come read this.”

 

Minseok walks over, still chewing, but sets his plate down and squints as he reads, “They’re just kids.”

 

“Who can’t follow directions?” 

 

Minseok rolls his eyes, pulling the pen from his hand, “That’s enough. Let’s go to the room. Come on. You’re getting old just sitting here.”

 

“You just want to get me naked.” Jongin reaches and snatched his pen back. Minseok laughs, but doesn’t protest. “I’ll be in there in a minute. I’m almost done.”

 

Minseok nods, slipping from the study and into Jongin’s room. There isn’t any movement and soon enough he hears small breaths that indicate Minseok’s fallen fast asleep. Jongin gets through another class before shutting the lights off going into his bedroom. Minseok has taken the right side of the bed, curled up with a pillow hugged to his chest. Jongin slips underneath the covers and flinches when Minseok wakes suddenly. “Done, professor?”

 

“Stop calling me that.” Jongin whispers. He reaches over and tugs Minseok against his chest, small frame all but curled up. 

 

“I had a problem as a kid.” Minseok whispers, barely even there, but tips his head back to offer Jongin his neck. When he inches closer, Minseok continues, “Whenever I’d touch myself I’d feel sick the whole time, like I was doing something I knew I shouldn’t, but I–“ Minseok pauses, licking his lips and savoring the tiny bites Jongin is giving him. “It felt so good that I couldn’t stop. Whenever I’d finished, I’d get this bad feeling in my gut, like I lack so much self-control that I have to pleasure myself.” 

 

Jongin hums, kissing his jaw. 

 

“When I lived here, my roommate was this quiet kid, didn’t really say much, only ever spoke to me when he needed to.” Minseok goes on. Jongin’s not sure where this is going, nor is he sure if he wants to know. By now, Minseok’s ass is pressed firmly against Jongin’s crotch and he’s pushing back slightly, breath coming in thicker as he continues to talk. “But he… he had the tendency of jerking off in our shower. All the time. Even when I was in the dorm. I’d just hear it almost everyday.”

 

“Did he do it on purpose?” Jongin finds himself asking. 

 

Minseok shrugs, “Probably. He’d do it in his bed sometimes, thinking I was sleeping. I caught him once. I would turn over just as I knew he was about to come and just stare at him. I couldn’t see, but he probably blushed. We never talked about it until graduation.”

 

“I bit too hard.” Jongin mumbles, pressing his lips lightly over a mark on the side of his neck. 

 

“It’s okay. I like it.” Minseok grins. “Anyway, back to my story. On graduation morning, we were getting ready in our dorms, all dapper and shit. He turned to me, blank expression and told me he was sorry. I asked him, what for, and he said for saying my name whenever he’d do those sorts of things in the shower.” 

 

“Wait. He said your name?”

 

“Are you jealous?” Minseok looks back at him. Jongin shakes his head. “Don’t be jealous, baby.”

 

“I’m not.” Jongin protests. “This kid. Have you seen him since then?” 

 

“Once. He came back for our reunion and he kind of just minded himself and didn't talk to anyone. I spoke to him a little.” 

 

Jongin hums, “What’s the purpose of this story again?”

 

“Shame is the purpose of this story.” Minseok smiles, gums peaking through, innocent almost. “If I asked you to do it in front of me, would you?”

 

“Do what?” Jongin asks, even though he knows what, but his stomach stirs anyway. 

 

“Touch yourself. Would you do it?” Minseok tilts his head. 

 

Jongin bites his tongue and shrugs, “I don’t… I don’t know. Maybe. That’s embarrassing, though, isn’t it?”

 

“We don’t have to. I just think–“ Minseok pets his hair softly, “I just think you’d look very pretty.”

 

Jongin says okay, that he’ll think about it. 

•

A few weeks into January, and Jongin was swimming in paperwork. His students had hassled him a few times to get the work done and enter their grades, but there was so much to correct and grade he couldn’t do it all on his own.

 

So, he called Minseok.

 

In his apartment, there was a phone with two numbers taped to the wall if assistance was needed. Jongin dialed and waited. “Minseok speaking.”

 

“Hi.” Jongin mumbles. 

 

“Oh, hi, baby.” Minseok says, cheery as ever. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Are you busy? I kind of need help with grading some piles and I’m sort of drowning. You don’t have to–“

 

Minseok laughs, “I’m on my way.” Then a click. 

 

He manages to get most of the piles into the kitchen and on the counter so they can sit and eat. He’d ordered pizza and had wine in case Minseok wanted any. A moment later, Minseok rapped on the door, greeting Jongin with a quick kiss on the mouth, “You look tired.” 

 

“I am.” Jongin admits. They sat and ate first, then got to decreasing the piles. Minseok was surprisingly very helpful, didn’t act coy or ask too many questions. They got through two classes and had one left when Minseok said, “Maybe we should take a break. You look like you’re about to crash, baby.”

 

“This teaching shit is no joke.” Jongin says, rubbing at his eyes. “January grades aren’t due till next week, but my students want them done quick so I won’t leave any assignments out.”

 

“You can do those later.” Minseok rubs at his shoulders. “Do you want me to go, so you can sleep?”

 

Jongin shakes his head, presses his cheek against Minseok’s chest when he gets up to hug him. He smells like he just got out of the shower, clean and fresh. “As soon as the semester is over, I’ll leave back to the city.”

 

“Yeah?” Minseok says. 

 

“I won’t be back until the school year starts again.” Jongin breathes. “I’ll… we won’t see each other as much.” 

 

“Why wouldn’t we?”

 

“You’ll be here. I won’t.” Jongin says, feeling a bad thing start to grow in his chest. “I won’t come back until late August to start up classes again.” 

 

“You’re considering staying here?” Minseok pulls back first, looking at him like he’s spoken a foreign tongue. “I thought you didn't like it here.” 

 

Jongin shrugs, “I do like it. The kids could be better, but it’s not public school. It’s nice, Minseok.” 

 

Minseok hums, but looks like there’s a thousand words trapped in his throat. He sways a bit and then manages to take a few steps back, which could easily be a hundred miles to Jongin. Had Minseok wanted him to leave? “You don’t think this place is, I don’t know, below your pay grade?” 

 

“Below my pay grade? It’s a teaching job.” Jongin tells him. “I have somewhere to live that isn’t with my parents or a cramped apartment on the second floor of some fucked up block. Besides, I… I’m comfortable here.”

 

“That’s your way of saying I’m one of the reasons you don’t want to leave?” Minseok crosses his arms. “I don’t know. You just don’t… fit here and I mean that in the nicest way possible. There’s more for you, you know. Teaching at better schools and whatnot. But here? I don’t know.” 

 

“You got something on your mind?” Jongin practically spits, a little annoyed. This talk about not fitting in just spiked his nerves through the roof. What did that even mean? Didn’t fit in because he wasn’t fifty and had three kids with a woman named fucking Suzie? “Tell me.” 

 

“I don’t have anything to say.” Minseok shrugs, his glare narrowing. “What? Are you upset with me?”

 

Jongin huffs, turning away and getting back to his papers. His hands buzz and his entire face feels like it’s been engulfed in flames. “Just didn’t expect you to say some shit like that. Of all times, too, I don’t fit in? That doesn’t make sense, but have your opinion, I guess.” 

 

“I just see you in a higher estate.” Minseok explains, walking over to the other side of the small kitchen and looking at him. He’s got a kind look in his eyes, and his voice is leveled but quiet. The same way you would speak when you’re trying to be understood. “Don’t take it the wrong way. That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want you to stay here because I’m here.” 

 

“I’m not staying here because of you.” Jongin replies, sifting through the piles like he’s looking for something. Blind annoyance. “I’m a teacher. I work here. I have kids here. You’re just…” Jongin looks up to find Minseok staring at him. “You’re my something. I don’t know yet.” 

 

“Okay.” Minseok says, deflating. “I should go, then.” 

 

“Only if you want to.” Jongin mumbles. He doesn’t want him to, but Jongin was never one to beg for someone’s company. Busying himself with his piles of work, Jongin nearly forgets that Minseok was still around. He hears shuffling in his room and then the bed creaking under someone’s weight. Jongin drifts in and out in the expanse of the next hour, forgetting completely about Minseok in his bedroom and their conversation. 

 

Jongin stumbles back into his room at a quiet hour. Minseok isn’t asleep, but seems to have woken up. “Why are you awake?” 

 

“You tripped over a pile of books on your way here.” Minseok replies, voice groggy and tired. Jongin almost wants to apologize for snapping earlier just by the sound of his voice. “Dazed?” 

 

“Somewhat.” Jongin mumbles back. “We have a disagreement and instead of leaving you fall asleep in my bed?”

 

Minseok nods, looking like he wants to go back to sleep. Jongin pads over and sits on the edge of the bed, swaying back and forth. His hands hurt from grading so many papers that they could easily start moving on their own accord anytime soon. “These last few months are going to go by fast, Minseok. In no time the kids will be graduating and we’ll have new ones next academic year.” 

 

“Sounds like we’re sending the kids off to college.” Minseok teases, nudging Jongin’s hip with his foot. “Try to enjoy it while you have it.” 

 

“You mean try to enjoy you while I have you?” Jongin looks over his shoulder. Minseok shrugs. “What are you gonna do during the summer? Are you allowed to leave?” 

 

“For a short time, probably.” Minseok says. “A week, at most.” 

 

“You wouldn’t… I mean, would you ever consider leaving? Even for a few days?” Jongin can feel his palms beginning to sweat. “When was the last time you left this island?” 

 

Minseok shrugs, “I’m fine here.” 

 

“Minseok.” Jongin says, pleading. He doesn’t want to sound desperate, but he’s bordering on it by now. “You wouldn’t even leave for a little bit? Even a day?” 

 

“With you?” Minseok sits up. Jongin looks over his shoulder and immediately wants to forget the conversation. 

 

Jongin sputters, “I don’t know. Maybe. If you want.” 

 

Minseok doesn’t say anything, doesn’t reach out to touch him or grab him, but instead yawns. Jongin suddenly realizes he’d been sleeping before he’d decided to come in. Minseok could easily forget this conversation by morning, and that’s if he decides to stay. “Come here.” 

 

Jongin goes willingly, dragging himself up the expanse of the bed to drop right next to Minseok. Minseok’s warm from the blankets. There’s a split second where Jongin thinks he should tell him that maybe the conversation should be forgotten, that maybe they should just fuck and forget it ever happened. Shit doesn’t always fix itself that way, though. Jongin’s stomach squeezes when Minseok inches closer, face cold and expressionless the way only he could make it. He felt like he was about to get in trouble for something, or getting scolded for speaking out of turn. Minseok wasn’t that way, though. Minseok’s hand hovers over Jongin’s cheek by a mere inch. It’s pathetic how badly Jongin wants to whine about it, wants to tell him to press closer, to touch him even a little bit. That would be enough, just a little bit. 

 

“Why aren’t you touching me?” Jongin builds up the courage to finally say. It takes the wind out of him, this game Minseok is playing. His hand hovers still, unmoving, firm and in place. Move it. Move it. Touch me. Touch me. Touch. Me. 

 

“Haven’t left the island since I was nineteen. That was a while ago.” Minseok finally says. “There’s nothing much for me out there, you know. Everything’s lackluster. Bland, almost. Then you showed up in your pressed shirts on the first Monday of the school year. I had to clean this apartment out for you before you arrived, you know. We spoke once in here before I fucked you above the chapel for the first time.” 

 

“No, we didn’t.” Jongin knits his eyebrows together, frown deepening on his face. “Minseok, what are you doing?” 

 

“You came in and asked me to unload your luggage from the cab.” Minseok grins. “I told you I wasn’t a maid, then you gave me this look. Mad, but surprised that I’d spoken out against you. Who would have thought, huh?” 

 

“I don’t remember.” Jongin tells him. “I’m sorry.” 

 

Minseok shrugs, “It’s okay.” 

 

“What are you doing?” Jongin asks, again. His hand remains in the same place. There’s an inkling feeling that this is going to end badly, fucked up even. “Don’t torture me.” 

 

“Okay.” Minseok whispers before kissing him. Bruising, painful enough to draw blood from Jongin’s mouth. Jongin whines, a nagging feeling in his chest blooming when Minseok finally touches him. It burns, almost. Sears into his cheeks, his neck, his throat. Minseok goes and goes until Jongin’s begging him to move on, to kiss anywhere else. “Listen.” 

 

Jongin sucks in a breath and holds it. His mouth aches. 

 

“I’m crazy about you.” Minseok says, a breath away. “I am. Probably more than you think you are for me. I’m not torturing you.” 

 

“Why does it feel like you are, then?” Jongin tilts his chin a bit, seeking a kiss that Minseok gives him, wet but not promising anything. “Just give me something. Anything. We don’t have forever, you know. I leave soon.” 

 

Minseok huffs, drops his head on to Jongin’s shoulder and becomes dead weight on top of him. Jongin only struggles for a short amount of time before Minseok sits back up and straddles him. “I’m giving you all I have.” Minseok whispers. “Why won’t you do the same?”

•

Jongin spends the majority of January juggling grades and anxious students. On the brink of graduating, there’s a heavy cloud that rains over every student. The days seem to become weeks to them and a simple task is enough to ensure a rage fit. Jongin understands since he suffered the same emotions during his last two months of high school, but the energy here was much more prominent. He also spends the majority of January alone in his apartment. Spends his birthday alone, calls his parents to make sure they’re alive and grades papers. 

 

Minseok fades in and out of his dreams but that’s the only place Jongin ever really sees him these days. His last conversation with Minseok that had been long was in the last crisp days of February. Classes had been cancelled do to a main water pipe problem. Jongin was gathering his things in his classroom when Minseok had walked by, busy with getting the mops to the end of the hall. Jongin couldn’t stop myself from rushing out and blurting his name, hurried and frantic. It hadn’t been an action that was well thought out, so when Minseok turned to look at him, Jongin found himself falling silent. 

 

“How are you?” Minseok asks, realizing Jongin was frozen. “You’re well, yes? I heard it was your birthday last month.” 

 

“Yeah.” Jongin replies, mouth dry as sand. “I haven’t heard from you.” 

 

“Been busy.” Minseok shrugs. Jongin knows that shits a lie. He had never been busy before, so why now? The night in Jongin’s apartment was the last night they’d talk, leading up to now. It’d been a surprise when Jongin didn’t find himself walking to the chapel at odd hours in the night. He never called nor sought him out. “Summer’s close. Any plans?” 

 

“Going back home, probably.” Jongin tells him. 

 

Minseok nods, jiggling the mops in his hands a little to make a point, “Better go put these away.” 

 

Jongin steps back, already half turned to go back into his class when Minseok says, “I’ll be here all summer. The grounds keeper leaves mid July for three weeks to see his wife and kids.” It wasn’t a blunt invitation, but Jongin took it anyway. 

 

He returned to his apartment that night and couldn’t fall asleep when it came time to. There’d been something so off about Minseok’s suggestion/invitation. What had happened back in January? There must have been a snap that needed to happen. 

 

Jongin struggles through March with a fucked up sleeping schedule. He wakes at odd hours of the night and stirs. His mother calls it stress, but Jongin thinks he’s dug himself into a hole that’s beginning to spiral. The students notice as well; always having to remind him of what he was speaking of or what topic he was touching on that day. Minseok’s never around, anyway. That’s not much help. 

 

March melts into April, April slowly chugs it’s way to May, but it feels never ending. Jongin can practically smell summer. He’s sure he’s more excited that the kids are. The last few weeks of the school year feel like a dream. Jongin hasn’t slept that good since he was a child, and he hopes this feeling lasts. 

 

Graduation day comes and Jongin’s already packed up. He’d called his parents the night before and had promised he would be home by midnight the next day. Graduation ceremonies are a big deal here, especially since the Dean of the school is the one that has to come and commence it. Jongin sits alongside the other teachers, who try not to doze off as the Dean speaks. Parents are seated on the left and right balconies, watching with glittering eyes as their children are about to walk across the stage and shake the Deans hand. 

 

Jongin’s full body sweating when it ends, when the caps fly into the air even though they were all forbidden to do any of that at the meeting a week before. He speaks to some parents and tries to instill a form of hope into the ones that ask about their child’s future. 

 

“Professor!” Jongin jumps and turns around to see Sehun, smile plastered across his face. “It’s hot as shit, isn’t it?” 

 

“It is.” Jongin doesn’t bother scolding him for the language.

 

“I was talking to your boyfriend before I came over here.”

 

“What are you on about?”

 

Sehun tsks, shoves Jongin’s shoulder a bit like they’re the same age, like they’re friends and not a teacher and a student, “The janitor! Everyone knew! You’d be so spaced out in class sometimes. It was hard to miss. Especially with all those bites you’d have.” 

 

“Jesus.” Jongin hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 

“I’m not judging you!” Sehun hurries to add. “Anyway, the janitor, professor, he’s waiting for you above the chapel. Said he has something to give you before you leave.” 

 

Jongin nods, thanks him, wishes him luck in his future, but Sehun doesn’t let him walk away without a hug. 

 

There’s a few students and parents still around, but Jongin walks toward the chapel just as the sun’s beginning to set. He takes the steps by two and waits a second before knocking on Minseok’s door. Minseok answers but doesn’t allow him in at first. “I figured that kid as a shitty messenger.” 

 

“He is.” Jongin looks over his shoulder. “I waited a while before coming.” 

 

“Build suspense?”

 

“I was anxious.” 

 

Minseok smiles, moves aside and let’s Jongin come in. Jongin had anticipated a kiss from Minseok, if he was being honest, but Minseok just handed him an envelope. “You look confused.” 

 

“I just wasn’t expecting this.” Jongin admits. “Can I open it?” 

 

“No.” Minseok hurried to still his hand that was moving over the opening. Jongin felt his entire body buzz from the slight touch. Barely anything, but felt like everything. “When you’re home and off the island.” 

 

Jongin nodded, thanked him for it. “I should be heading out. I still have some things to pack up.” 

 

Minseok says that he’ll see him around. Jongin goes in for a hug which Minseok awkwardly glides into. It’s stiff and abnormal. Last time they had hugged was months go. Jongin releases a breath once he’s outside. The envelope hangs heavy in his hand as he walks home. He packs all his things, some of them being shirts that didn’t belong to him, but to Minseok. He figures he could give them back later at a different time.

•

Back home, Jongin takes some time to slip into his old routine. His parents are ever generous, but it feels like they have something to say to him. They speak about the school year and the kids and how the atmosphere was, but the conversations never venture far from there. 

 

He feels like a teenager all over again. Holed up in his room more hours than normal. He tries to meet up with a few old friends, but he always flakes and makes an excuse. There’s also the envelope Minseok had given him. It remains closed on his dresser, collecting dust. 

 

Longing is a very cruel emotion. Jongin has been over dozens of scenarios of how things will go when he returns back to the island, or when he decides to open the envelope. These feelings he knows he feels could easily be spoken, could be told to Minseok or to anyone if he wishes to say them. That’s the hardest part. Saying things that have been eating at you for so long are like a hole in your stomach that you’ve gotten used to living with. 

 

He’s a drunk mess when he decides to open it. Their neighbor had thrown a small birthday party for their youngest daughter and the only reason Jongin went was for the alcohol. His eyes won’t focus until he turns the light on. He reads it out loud, burping and hiccuping often. 

 

There’s a number scribbled at the bottom, so Jongin dials it. He can’t remember what the letter said, but he knew it made the feeling in his stomach ache worse. A few rings and there’s movement on the other end. “Hello?” 

 

“Read your letter.” Jongin says as a preamble. “It was nice. You’ve got a way with words.” 

 

“It’s pretty late.” Minseok says. “It took you awhile to read it, didn’t it? I expected a call as soon as you left.” 

 

Jongin laughs, feels his stomach sway from the sound of his voice. “I bet you did. I was afraid to read it. But I got drunk tonight. I’m drunk. I drank a lot.” 

 

“Call me in the morning.” 

 

Jongin winces, “Maybe I want to talk to you now.” 

 

“You’ll say something stupid.” Minseok sighs. “Go to bed. Call me in the morning when your head is clear.” 

 

“I think about you a lot.” Jongin blurts out, but then eases when he realizes his parents are downstairs. “Ever since I left, that’s all I do. I think about you like crazy.” 

 

“Jongin.” 

 

“I don’t say it to you, or to anyone because I’m afraid I’ll fuck it up. I always say things when I’m not supposed to.” Jongin pauses, listens to Minseok’s even breath on the other side, “But if I don’t say them, they’ll kill me. They’ll send me down this spiral of dread and I don’t want to feel that way. I don’t. I think about you and I miss you. I wish I was on the island rather than here. I want to be there with you. I want to be with you.” 

 

Jongin can feel the awkward silence drag on for a long time. Minseok sputters, tries to find something to say, but he comes up empty. “Jongin. Call me in the morning. We can sort this out.” 

 

What was there to sort out? 

 

He feels his eyes burn, so he hangs up. It’s most difficult this way. Speaking in drunken syllables wasn’t the way Jongin wanted this to go. It sure as hell wasn't how he wanted to tell Minseok how he was feeling. Maybe over dinner, or after a movie. I want to say it, but I can’t.

•

He calls in the morning, but only after his parents leave for a day at the beach. Jongin opts out, claiming he had to start working on lesson plans for the upcoming academic year. Minseok doesn’t pick up at first, so Jongin waits for a call back. He waits for the third ring to actually answer. “Hi.” 

 

“Hey. How’s your head?” Minseok asks, casually. Jongin says it’s fine. His hangovers were never too brutal. “You remember last night?” 

 

“Vividly.” Jongin croaks. “Listen, I–“

 

“We should talk in person.” Minseok cuts in. “Over the phone feels very insensitive.” 

 

“You come to me or I come to you?” Jongin jokes. 

 

Minseok scoffs, “Send me your address.” Then a click. Jongin’s entire body goes rigid. Minseok? In his house? 

 

Jongin sends his address anyway, figures he could call Minseok’s bluff. There was a very slim chance of Minseok appearing at his doorstep, especially at such short notice. Jongin waits for about half an hour, which is more than enough time to come from Alameda over the bridge and into east. 

 

He hurries down the stairs when there’s a car door slamming shut outside. Minseok apparently wasn’t fucking around because there he was, on his doorstep. It was odd to see him standing there of all places. Jongin stands in front of the door for a few seconds after he knocks. Anxiety kicks in, but he opens the door anyway. Minseok smiles, polite, the way you would when you meet the parents. 

 

“You weren’t fucking around.” Jongin breathes. 

 

Minseok shrugs, “Gonna let me in?”

 

“I don’t know yet.” Jongin confesses. They could sit out front on the porch, talk there but something about Minseok’s body language screams that he doesn’t want to sit out in the open. “You caught me a little off guard.”

 

“I’m not gonna do anything.” Minseok reassures. “Let me in.” 

 

Minseok observes the house for a few minutes, humming here and there. Jongin could use a drink right about now. He was a man with a teaching credential who still lived with his parents. “It’s nice in here. Neighborhood is classic, though. Where’s your room?”

 

“Did you come here to talk to me or…” Jongin doesn’t finish, instead letting the question hang in the air. As it should. 

 

“To talk.” Minseok confirms. “You said a lot last night over the phone. It made me worried.” 

 

Jongin cringes, looking away, “I’m a bonafide dumbass.” 

 

“Your room, professor.” Minseok says, motioning toward the stairs. Jongin gives and leads the way. It’s probably a bad idea, probably a terrible fucking idea, but he has no other choice. What was he supposed to say? Denounce his drunken confession? He had said and he had meant it, but things were different now. He was sober now. “Cute.” Minseok comments when he plops down on the bed. “My letter.” He points to the envelope on Jongin’s dresser. 

 

“You’re torturing me.” Jongin says from the other side of the room. He’s standing by his closet, feeling thirty miles away from Minseok. 

 

“You always say that.” 

 

“You always are.” Jongin tells him. “What was your endgame with me? The night in the kitchen I told you not to play at anything with me, but you still… you confused me. I don’t know what you want.” 

 

“I told you what I wanted.” Minseok frowns. “I gave you everything I had. You just wouldn’t do the same.”

 

“I don’t even know you!” Jongin says it with his chest, annoyed and angry for a reason unknown to him. 

 

Minseok shuts his mouth, looking stunned, but not pissed. “It sounds like you’ve been holding that in.” 

 

Jongin bites his tongue, wills himself to say the things he wants to but they get lost somewhere on their way up. “I just wish I knew you. Really knew you. Not just the surface stuff, you know. You know how I feel and I know how you feel, but you’re just so closed off with me.” 

 

“I don’t have a tragic backstory, if that’s what you’re looking for.” Minseok shrugs. “It’s just difficult for me.” 

 

Jongin nods, says he understands, apologizes for prying. He gets a sense of déjà vu from seeing Minseok sitting on his bed, back to the night in December when Jongin had pitifully stumbled up the steps to his room above the chapel. This wasn’t the chapel, and it was far from December. “How long are you staying?” Jongin asks. 

 

“Have to be back by tonight.” Minseok says, standing up and going toward the window. There’s kids playing outside, a group of teenagers playing dice underneath the main stairwell of the apartment complex across the street. Jongin doesn’t ask, but he notices Minseok’s look of longing when he stands by the window. It’s almost like he’d seen this all before but it was so long ago. “I grew up a few blocks down.” 

 

“You did?” 

 

Minseok nods, “Never came to this side, though.”

 

“You’re not upset with me, are you?” 

 

“No.” Minseok grins. Jongin’s got a pout forming, so Minseok pats his shoulder, tells him to stop, kisses him a little when Jongin doesn’t. He chases after him, ache in his stomach growing from being kissed just a few times by Minseok. “As tempting as it is, I’m not touching you in your parent’s house.” 

 

“Please.” Jongin whines, falls right into him, mouth sloppy and desperate and kissing everywhere he could reach. “You want me to beg? I can beg.” 

 

“I know you can.” Minseok laughs at him, the way you would to a kid. Jongin swallows it, hopes Minseok will take him, even if it’s just for tonight. Even if he has to wait till July to see him again. A little fussing and Jongin’s being pushed on to the bed, no bounce. “I want you to do that thing for me.” 

 

“What thing?” Jongin asks, sitting up, but Minseok pushes him back down. He takes the chair by his desk and sits down, back facing the door and blocking it in case someone decided to barge in. “What, now?”

 

“You don't have to.” Minseok assured him. 

 

Jongin huffs, throws his head back and tries to make a list of pros and cons of this situation. Pro: he’d get off – which he hadn’t done in a while, if we’re being honest. Con: Minseok would be watching the entire time, maybe even guide him and that was humiliating. Con: he doesn’t know if he’s even capable of getting hard with the nerves bubbling in his veins. Pro: Minseok is watching, Minseok might give him a reward. 

 

“I don’t wanna look at you when I do it.” Jongin says, staring at the ceiling. Minseok hums, says okay. 

 

It takes a while for Jongin to even build the courage to touch himself a little. He’s sure he’s shaking, but it’s not from the nerves. There’s very few sounds in the room and they’re not the good kind. It’s too dry, and Jongin wants to reach his bottom drawer for the lube, but Minseok tsks when his hand reaches out. “It’s dry.” Jongin breathes. His grip is even loose to refrain from dragging too much. Jongin flinches when Minseok appears into his line of vision. He smiles, sweet but mean. “What are you–“ Minseok tilts his head down and spits right on him. 

 

“There. Now it’s wet.” 

 

Jongin groans and throws his arm over his eyes when the slide becomes slick again. It’s not enough, clearly. Spit dries very quickly, so Minseok takes pity and gets the lube for him. Jongin can feel the shame building in his gut, can feel Minseok’s eyes on him. His little hums of affirmation that seem to be enough to make Jongin wither on the bed. 

 

“Gonna.” Jongin mumbles, not bothering to finish. Minseok doesn’t say anything, lets him. Jongin shuts his eyes when he comes, thighs shaking and entire bottom half throbbing. “Did I look pretty?” Jongin asks, tilting his head to the side to look at him. 

 

Minseok grins, visibly unbothered. He gets up from the chair and uses Jongin’s sleep shirt to clean him off, cooing at him about how messy he was. “Your turn.” Jongin tries to reach, but Minseok waves his hands away. 

 

“We can save it for some other time.” Minseok tells him, pecks him on the lips. “I have to go. Groundskeeper is gonna wonder where I went.” 

 

Jongin doesn’t want him to go, but it’s not like he can do much to make him stay awhile longer. 

 

Minseok kisses him like he means to say, “I’ll see you soon” but he doesn’t say it. Jongin walks him outside to his car, which wasn’t his but the groundskeeper’s. Said he had “borrowed it”. 

 

“I’ll see you in July?” Jongin says when he gets in the car. Hopeful. 

 

Minseok laughs, “Yeah. We can be real domestic then.” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

“And August.” Minseok adds, turning the key. Jongin looks confused. “I’ll see you in August. New school year.”

 

“Right.” Jongin smiles. “July and August.” 

 

Jongin steps back from the car and waits for him to drive off, but Minseok hangs back a few beats, “I feel the same way. I’m not playing at anything with you. I’m serious.”

 

Finally. Jongin nods, says okay, but he’s practically beaming. When Minseok drives off, Jongin stands on the sidewalk for a second, listening to the kids of the block scream and play. He counts the days till July and hopes they pass by quickly. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
